


Not a promise

by LaryssaD17



Series: Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted if the Father of Understanding Guides Us [22]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hispanic!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaryssaD17/pseuds/LaryssaD17
Summary: Reader is between life and death, Jacob is her only salvation.
Relationships: Jacob Frye & Reader, Jacob Frye/Reader
Series: Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted if the Father of Understanding Guides Us [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685434
Kudos: 9





	Not a promise

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so this may have errors.

Blood. That was all you could see. Blood all over your robes.

You swallow and tried to press more your hand on the source of the red liquid, but for your misfortune, the thing started dripping between your fingers. You swallow again, the train was close.

You tried to keep moving because you were sure you needed medical attention, but the wound hurtled badly, and your lungs were burning for all the running and jumping you had been doing.

“Just…a little…bit more”, you said to yourself, but you couldn’t make the jump and you ended falling in a trash can and then in the floor of some random alley. “ _Mierda_ ”, you mumble while you groaned, trying to suppress the pain you had with the fall.

You moved, so you were on your back. You took a few breaths; you look at yourself to see that your robes were soaked in blood and that they were getting worse with each passing moment.

“Fuck”, you cursed again when you failed in getting up. You tried a few more times, but nothing worked. Your body felt heavy and numb and you suddenly were sure that you were going to die there.

You even close your eyes, thinking that this was a pathetic way to die, until your eyes suddenly open and your hand move to one of your many pockets, searching for your phone.

With a blooded hand you unlocked the apparatus and with heavy breathing, you search in your contacts for the first name that came to your mind.

“C’mon”, you said, trying to find it with a blurry vision because of the tears you were now dripping. You felt utterly ridicule but you needed to call someone to find you.

When the search was successful and the phone started calling, you try to put it in your ear, but your arm hurtled a little, so you put it on speaker.

“Pick it up, _idiota_ ”, you say at the phone after it rings a few times, and no one takes it. Suddenly a voice answers but you don’t have time to show how relieve you are.

“I need you to find me…”, you barely say.

“What? Something bad happened?”

“You’re such a genius”, apparently, not even dying you stopped being sarcastic.

“Where are you?”

“Somewhere near the docks”, is the only thing you remember before the Blighters discovered you and you had to run, not without a bullet wound on your abdomen and fighting four brutes at the same time, of course.

“Alright, I’m on my way. How bad is it?”, you hear some muffled sounds and you look at yourself again.

“Pretty bad. Bullet wound…I think I broke my arm and…some idiot stabbed me. There…there is a lot…of blood…too”.

“It sounds pretty bad but I’m on my way. Just hold on, alright?”, you nod, knowing that he couldn’t see you.

You swallow again and he keeps talking to you, so you don’t close your eyes, but eventually you do either way, and everything goes black.

* * *

Breathing hurts a little but you take it has a good sign because you didn’t know if you were alive. Opening your eyes proves to be a little more difficult than breathing, but you do it at the end. You find a white room that makes you a little anxious because you never liked that color in walls, because it reminds you of hospitals and you totally hate those places. But when you listen to the beeping sound beside you, you understand that you are in one. Or at least the assassin version of it.

When you look at yourself, you find that your arm was indeed broken because it has a cast on and that the rest of your body is all covered in bandages and awful hospital clothes. “ _Dios_ ”, you say to yourself, because you totally hate hospitals and now, thanks all this, you wouldn’t be in the field for quite a time.

It wasn’t until you heard snoring that you realize that you weren’t alone in the room. When you look at your left, you find him in a chair, sleeping in a weird angle that you know is uncomfortable. Before your mind can drift itself to a line of cliché thoughts, his head moves to the side and he wakes up before it can go much farther.

He looks at your direction sleepily, trying to sit down straight and he takes a few seconds to realize that you are awake. When he does, his eyes go wide and he jumps from the chair to your side in a heartbeat.

“Oh, thank God you wake up. How are you feeling, love? Want me to call the doctor?”, his voice appears to you loud and he kind of notices when you frown. “I am been too loud?”, he whispers, and you nod. “Sorry, it just that…”, he stops to swallow. “You gave me quite a scare, lass”.

You know you did; his hazel eyes tell you than and more. Jacob wasn’t to worry, his superpower was acting indifferent to everything, but now, after finding you all bloody and between life and death because of how much red liquid you lost, he couldn’t use his superpower. Not again, not with you.

You move your left hand -that doesn’t have the itchy cast but an IV line- to touch his hand. He knows your intention and happily moves his to hold yours like his life depends of it.

“Thanks for saving my ass back there”, your voice is raspy because you haven’t use it in God knows how long, but your comment brings a smirk to his face either way. A smirk you love.

“Is always a pleasure, love”, he says, using is typical tone now. “But promise me something, please”, you wanted to roll your eyes, because you know what he is going to say. “Promise me you aren’t taking more Blighters alone”.

“You know I can’t promise that”.

“I had to try”, you try to chuckle, but the sound that comes out is weird and dry. “Either way, please, don’t give me another scare like that again. I don’t want to lose you like this”.

“Not a promise neither”, this time he chuckles, in that sexy and unique way he has, and you grin, feeling completely exhausted but happy that you’re alive.


End file.
